Rain Shadow (Dutch Country Brides) Page 7

  “Danke, fraulein,” the young man at Rain Shadow’s side said, breathlessly.

  Rain Shadow smiled absently, her attention arrested by the bright blue dress on a woman nearby. She studied the fitted bodice, the gathers at the waist, and allowed her gaze to find another, even prettier dress in the crowd, an intricately tucked and pleated bodice with rows of tiny seed pearls set into the deep rose-colored fabric. The matching belt was simple and complemented the garment perfectly.

  Her gaze met her father’s, and Two Feathers nodded a greeting from across the room.

  “A jar of lemonade may I get you?”

  Realizing the young man spoke to her, she smiled and nodded, intrigued by Nathan’s odd speech. He handed her a brimming cold mason jar, and she thanked him. “Where are you from?”

  “Accord, miss.”

  “Is it far?”

  “Nein. Several miles.”

  “But your accent is...”

  “German. Less diluted than the Neubauers’.” He grinned. “A self-sufficient community of believers Accord is. We hold to the language and teachings of our ancestors. Only during the last few years have we been allowed freedom to travel and go to school with outsiders. Attending the University of Philadelphia I am. I am Lydia’s brother.”

  She raised her brows in surprise. Jakob had taken a spell from his fiddle. He and Lydia sat near the wood stove, his arm draped over her shoulder. Lydia’s fingers rested on her swollen stomach, and she spoke to him. Jakob smiled and whispered something in her ear.

  Sad-sweet regret drew a reflective finger across Rain Shadow’s heart. What a blessed child Lydia carried. How fortunate her children and Annette’s children were to have two loving parents. There had been no husband to share her own pregnancy, no lover to lean into for a shared moment over the miracle of life they’d created together. She would never regret becoming pregnant, in fact, the sun rose and set in her beautiful child, but circumstances were another matter, with regrets aplenty.

  Slade uppermost in her thoughts, Rain Shadow excused herself to check on him. The crisp air tasted wonderful after the dry warmth of the crowded barn, and she sprinted across the lawn in the darkness.

  Her son slept comfortably. The rabbit skin blanket she thought he’d discarded was tucked against his chest. Under her fingers, the fur was soft and worn, warm from the heat of his body. She recalled him as an infant, tucked into its enveloping folds. Two Feathers had trapped the rabbits, and she had sewn them together, grandfather and mother planning for the birth of her child. Soundlessly, she kissed Slade’s forehead and pulled the down coverlet under his chin.

  The Neubauers’ wide porch extended across the back of the house, down one entire side and across the front. Restlessly, she walked its length, returning and gazing across the lawn. Yellow light and gay music spilled from the open double barn doors. Wagons and buggies crowded the drive and one corner of the yard. Horses and a few mules stood staked here and there.

  One horse in particular whinnied and fought against a tether. As she watched, he reared violently and pulled the stake from the ground. Pivoting on his hind legs, he spun and broke into a run. As he passed the other animals, they shied away.

  Lightning quick, she descended the stairs and ran in the direction he’d disappeared. Nearing the corral, the moonlight offered a clear view. Having jumped the fence, the excited stallion pranced and shook his magnificent head before one of the Neubauers’ mares. Because of the other horses’ behavior earlier in the day, she’d noticed that the animal was in heat. The stallion nipped the mare on the neck, and after an obligatory show of indignation, she turned to accommodate him.

  Rain Shadow turned to leave and slammed into a hard chest. Her breath escaped with an unladylike “oof.”

  Anton grasped her shoulders and steadied her. “Sorry. I seem to be knocking into women left and right tonight.”

  The scent of his heated skin assailed her senses. He slid his hands to her upper arms. Through her soft dress, his touch was warm, the effect on her pulse swift.

  “I was wondering where Tom’s horse took off to. I saw him from the doorway.” His breath fanned the tiny hairs that had escaped at her temple.

  He should release her, but his fingers refused to obey. Instead they wanted to glide down her arms, caress the supple skin, linger at her narrow waist and explore the gentle curve of her hips. He was lighting a match to a keg of gunpowder, but he couldn’t release her just yet. His hands remained gently holding her arms. He raised his eyes and sighted the animal.

  “He caught your mare’s scent,” she said.

  An irresistible lure he was fighting himself. “Yeah?”

  “Go back to the dancing. I’ll return him...shortly.” A strand of midnight-black hair whipped from her braid and streamed in the breeze.

  She wasn’t embarrassed. She accepted the animals’ mating instincts as natural. He had to wonder what Lydia’s or Sissy’s reaction would have been had one of them followed him.

  “I needed some air, anyway,” he replied.

  She nodded and gave him one of those maddening little smiles. So composed. So self-sufficient. Her dark eyes seemed to focus on his, only to drop immediately to his mouth as if she’d read his burning need.

  She smelled wonderful. Not like soap or perfume or talcum, but like rain and trees and sunshine. The scent was his undoing. He lowered his face to her temple—a hair breadth away without touching her—and drew a savoring breath.

  Desire uncoiled and slithered throughout his body, a keen sensation he hadn’t experienced for a long time, if ever. He’d admitted to himself his appetite for her, but he loathed letting her know how she set his blood on fire.

  And then she tipped her head that whisper of distance between them and lifted her face to his. Her mouth was there waiting

  Her breath fanned his lips. He wasn’t sure who kissed whom. At first her lips offered the merest touch, like a silk ribbon against skin, so softly did they graze his. Their noses rubbed next, a cautious inquiry while he breathed in as much of her as his senses could take. She parted her lips ever so slightly, and he met them with his own. She came to life in his grasp, an instantaneous fire fed by his ravaging blaze of desire. He stoked her with hot burning lips and hands, pulling her against his body and splaying his fingers across her spine. She knew now. His desire was obvious.

  She pressed her flattened palms on his chest, celebrating the soul-scorching kiss with him. Anton pulled his mouth from hers and stared into eyes turned a molten blue-violet in the moonlight. He kissed the corner of her mouth, touched her full lower lip with the tip of his tongue. She inhaled sharply and met his lips with her own, drawing another insatiable kiss from him.

  Her reaction was honest, and his blood hummed through his veins. She wanted him, too.

  “Hell.” Anton straightened, held her at arm’s length and wrestled with his shattered determination.

  A confused expression replaced the desire in her eyes, and she withdrew from his touch.

  “This isn’t right. I—I shouldn’t have...” He inhaled the night air and shook his head as if throwing off the experience. “I shouldn’t have let that happen. I’m sorry.”

  His face held the clean, strong, angular lines of a man— not a boy, and his body testified to the fact, as well. He had a natural virility that appealed to her as it would to any woman. He was not as classically handsome as his brother Jakob, but he had an aura, an elemental attraction that every woman within eyesight was aware of.

  She’d noticed in the barn how he appealed to a woman. He oozed a magnetic, undiluted tone of sexual awareness that beguiled females, young and old, to take a second look.

  And she’d succumbed.

  Rain Shadow forcibly removed her gaze from his silver-streaked moonlit hair and stepped back as if he were a stick of dynamite. “No need to apologize. Let’s just forget it.”

  Forget it? Anton almost laughed at her ridiculous solution. She turned and walked toward the barn, his scowl followin
g. The hand he raked through his hair trembled. Forget that kiss? Why not jump off the barn roof and fly while he was at it? He’d just as likely sprout wings as forget that kiss.

  What in blue blazes had he done?

  Chapter Five

  In a secluded corner of the barn, Two Feathers and Johann perched on nail kegs facing one another. A third keg held a checkerboard. Both men’s creased faces grew intent on the game before them. A small gathering of white-haired men observed. Slender columns of aromatic smoke from pipes held in clenched teeth curled past squinting eyes.

  Anton contemplated the scene with a wry smile, sipped a stein of Ben Karrson’s homemade beer and mentally castigated himself. What in blazes could he have been thinking of out there?

  The farmers clustered beside him discussed crop prices. Annette caught his eye and waved. He returned her smile and watched her walk toward him, the skirt of her royal blue taffeta dress swishing about her ankles.

  “Does this old married lady stand a chance to dance with a handsome single gentleman?” Her tawny eyes revealed teasing warmth.

  “Honey, I’d snap up an old married lady like you in a minute if one was available.” He offered his arm.

  He waltzed her around the sawdusted wooden floor as if the barn were a marble-tiled palace. She smelled of lilacs and faintly of...of babies. He could barely remember a time when she hadn’t been part of their family. Franz had married his childhood sweetheart, as soon as she’d finished school.

  Two years later, needing the same companionship his brother enjoyed, Anton had placed an advertisement for a wife in the Pittsburgh Gazette. Emily had been his answer. He remembered her letter. Still had it.

  Emily had been to college, raised in a well-to-do family. Her father had been wrongly accused of embezzling funds from the bank where he worked, and the shame had driven Emily’s mother to the brink of sanity. Emily had escaped the city, seemingly eager to make a new life with him and start a family. As much as he’d hoped to make her feel welcome and loved, he’d failed miserably. There was obviously something wrong with him that prevented him from making that special connection he’d hoped for.

  He’d seen Emily for the first time at the train station and had been pleasantly surprised. The dowdy spinster he’d anticipated turned out a pretty young woman. But he’d had unrealistic hopes for their future.

  “You’re a million miles away.” His sister-in-law curtsied gracefully, and the dance ended.

  “Sorry. My brain’s addled tonight. Thanks for the dance.” His gaze cut across the room of its own volition. Rain Shadow held the attention of several children, graceful sign language punctuating her speech. Anton watched for a moment, then searched for Sissy.

  He found her visiting with Nathan Beker. “Let’s go for a walk, Sissy.”

  “I’ll tell my ma,” she replied. “Excuse us, Nathan.”

  Anton gulped the beer he held and met her outside the doorway, both of them tugging on jackets. “Will you be warm enough?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  His boots crunched gravel, his breath visible in the clear moonlight. He led the way around the corral where the horses waited to reclaim the barn. His great-limbed bay whinnied and galloped to the rail. Anton raised both hands and scrubbed the animal’s neck and forehead with his knuckles. He patted him soundly on the shoulder and stepped back.

  “What’s his name?” Sissy asked softly.

  “General Grant.”

  “He’s friendly.”

  “Sissy.”

  “Yes?” Hands stuffed in her pockets, she tipped her head to look at him.

  “I’ve been wanting to talk to you about something.”

  “All right.”

  He stubbed the toe of his freshly shined and polished boot in the dirt and wished he smoked.

  She waited patiently.

  “For a long time now, I’ve been thinking that I need to take a wife.”

  She didn’t move or say a word, but he sensed her anticipation. She stared back wide-eyed.

  “Nikolaus needs a mother. We live in the big house with my pa, and I reckon we’ll stay there for a while. Later we’ll have a place of our own. You know the way life is on a farm. It’s not easy, but we’re comfortable. The clock shop brings me extra money.”

  Still she said nothing.

  “I’m not going about this right. I can’t promise you some fairy-tale courtship or a perfect life, but I can promise that I’d be a faithful husband and that you wouldn’t want for much.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and hung them at his sides. “Would you consider marrying me, Sissy?”

  She’d been silent for so long, he wondered what she thought—if she thought. Granted, there’d been no great confession of love, but he’d asked, and she could say yes or no. If she said no he’d have to go through this all over again with Helena McLaury.

  “I’m honored that you asked me, Anton,” she said at last, and her voice quavered oddly. “I don’t mind not having the fairy-tale courtship, and I know life ain’t perfect, but I am wondering about the right reasons. You asked me if I’d consider, and the answer is yes, I’ll consider. I’d like to think about it.”

  Anton shifted his weight back and forth between his feet and flexed his fingers. Her breath puffed out in tiny white clouds. His was the best offer she’d ever had. What did she have to think about?

  He stepped forward, grasped her upper arms through her heavy jacket and pulled her toward him. She came compliantly. Maybe she needed something more to think about.

  He kissed her. Her sealed lips were cool and placid.

  Kissing Sissy, he didn’t think of Emily. He didn’t even think about Sissy.

  He thought of Rain Shadow, of violet eyes alternately snapping or laughing, of her proud, indomitable spirit and of the exotic sway of fringe against sun-kissed skin. And of hot, treacherous kisses...

  Merciful heavens, he thought for the second time that night, what had he done?

  * * *

  Frost crunched beneath Anton’s boots early the following morning. He dropped hammer and nails into a wooden toolbox and lugged it to the back of the wagon. Belatedly, his good ear alerted him to a set of boots behind him. He turned his head.

  Her. Wearing wool trousers smoothed over softly rounded thighs and hips. A stab of desire seared his vitals. He couldn’t help remembering he’d been kissed well.

  Boots every bit as sturdy as his encased her feet. She wore a lined waist-length leather coat. No traces of sleep remained on her face, she’d been up for hours. A band of renegades could loot the farmstead, and the family would sleep through it, as accustomed as they’d become to her barely-dawn practice ritual.

  “What are you doing today?”

  He turned to the wagon. “Winterizing stock tanks.”

  “Coming back here for the noon meal?”

  “I suppose so. Why?”

  “If not, I’ll pack something to take.”

  “I’ll be back.” He climbed onto the seat and turned to stare at her when she scrambled up beside him. “What are you doin’?”

  “Going with you.”

  “What for?”

  “To make myself useful. I’m bored sitting around here.”

  A calf bawled from inside the barn. Anton frowned into her liquid violet eyes. “I don’t need a female getting in my way.” If she didn’t constantly get under his skin, he could laugh at her brass-plated gall.

  “I won’t get in your way. I’m certain I can do nearly any of your chores as well as you.”

  He picked up the reins. “Get down.”

  “I want to help with the stock tanks.”

  “I don’t give a sparrow’s fart what you wanna do. This is a man’s job. Go in the house and find something to do.”

  “I’m offering my help. You’re being rude. This is something I can do. Give me a chance.”

  Anton shrugged. “Go get another hammer.”

  She leapt down.

  “And you’re going to need a shove
l and a bucket.”

  She disappeared inside the barn.

  * * *

  Two hours later, Rain Shadow carried the umpteenth bucket of manure and dumped it unceremoniously on the odious pile. Nothing like keeping busy for clearing her mind. Last night she’d been confused. Long after midnight she lay on her pallet, sifting and sorting shaken emotions. Abrasive as he could be, Anton Neubauer drew her like deer to a sparkling stream. She was attracted to him, she finally admitted to herself. Why not? He was pleasing to look at, intelligent and sensitive to his son’s needs.

  And she instinctively understood his resentment. Against his will he’d been attracted to her, too, but he saw her as an Indian. A nomad with no permanent home or family. She was an inappropriate choice, but he was drawn to her.

  Rain Shadow remembered the fair beauty in the daguerreotype on his bedroom wall, pictured the elegant low-cut dress, and glanced down at the manure caked to the ankles on her boots. He must feel pretty sullied having given in to his impulse to kiss her last night. In spite of herself, she smiled. She’d never been kissed like that.

  She hadn’t even known kisses like that existed.

  From beneath her wide-brimmed black hat, she watched him shrug out of his coat and toss it on a pile of wood. The blue chambray shirt stretched across his broad muscled back as he sawed a board in half. Bent at the waist, he hammered it into place on the frame he’d built around the stock tank. His body had been warm and solid against hers, his hands...

  She regarded them now, one gripping the hammer, the other holding the board in place. They were large and strong, soothing, yet inflaming. She hadn’t known caresses like that before. Heat flushed her now, just thinking about it. He’d been without his wife for a long time. He was a man with a normal, healthy sexual appetite. She experienced an equally healthy pang of regret. Too bad she wasn’t the one to satisfy it.

  He straightened and surveyed the pile she’d accumulated. “Ready.”

  “For what?”

  “Now we pack the manure in between the tank and the frame. Keeps the water from freezing.”

  Inwardly Rain Shadow groaned, but bent to the task. When the space was filled with manure, Anton took boards from the pile and nailed them to the top. He drew a hinged cover from the wagon bed, and together they fixed it to the top.